


Find the melody

by strikedawn



Category: IDOLiSH7 (Video Game)
Genre: Fluff, M/M, written for the Mezzo exchange 2020
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-04-05
Updated: 2020-04-05
Packaged: 2021-02-28 20:13:49
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,994
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/23493019
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/strikedawn/pseuds/strikedawn
Summary: With a free day ahead of them, MEZZO" could be doing many things.But instead, Sougo is holed up in the studio, composing.Instead, Tamaki is lonely.-So yeah: Sougo was the member of IDOLiSH7 Tamaki spent most of his time with.But that didn’t mean he didn’t miss him just the same.A loud groan escaped from Tamaki’s throat, muffled against the soft fabric of the King Pudding plushie.“Stupid Sou-chan...” he muttered, closing his eyes.
Relationships: Ousaka Sougo/Yotsuba Tamaki
Comments: 9
Kudos: 43
Collections: Dear Butterfly: MEZZO" Exchange





	Find the melody

**Author's Note:**

> For my Dear Butterfly Hina (@kaiketsuriku on twitter!)!! Your prompts were super nice, but I had to go for the cuddling one because... well. Tamasou cuddling, do I need a better reason??
> 
> Anyway, I hope you enjoy your present and that you get to spend a fantastic tamasou day!!

Free days were hard to come by, these days.

Tamaki should be happy to have gotten one. He had been working extra hard as of late, following everyone’s directions, studying his scripts, practicing extra all the new dance moves they were going to incorporate into their lives. It was a lot of work, and sometimes Tamaki wanted to groan and just hide in a corner to eat as much King Pudding as he could while playing games, but he still went on and kept working. There was something very nice about being praised, about the smiles the members of the staff dedicated him when he made their job easier.

About the rest of IDOLiSH7 relying on him, more and more each day.

So yes, Tamaki’s free day was well-earned, and he should be happy to get to spend a full day doing anything he wanted. Laying around in his pajamas until midday? Done. Eating so much King Pudding he had found not only one but _two_ ultra-rare King Pudding stickers on the same day? Done. Beating that hard boss on the video game Mikky had given him as a present one month ago?

Done. Twice.

He _should_ be happy. Tamaki had been dying to do all of those things for a long while, to the point where he had _dreamt_ of it — alright, fine, his dream might have involved a Tamaki-sized King Pudding with whom he had danced and played while a non-existing TRIGGER song played in the background but _still—;_ but the thing was, Tamaki had a full day, and he wasn’t happy about it.

Because even if he got to do all the things he had wanted to do, he was doing them _alone._

There was nothing fun about lazying around and playing games if you were alone. The house, so full and noisy when all of IDOLiSH7 came home after a long day of work, had been empty and silent for the whole day. It wasn’t dark, because Tamaki had made sure to turn every single light on as the sun started to set, but the silence unnerved him as much as the darkness, and by now not even the music playing from the speakers in the living-room helped to make him feel less lonely.

He would rather be working, Tamaki realized as he sunk deeper into the cushions of the sofa, a big King Pudding plushie clutched against his chest. If he had to spend his day alone at home, with no one to talk to or to play with, then he rather be back in the studio, or at dance practice, or at an interview with Sou-chan.

Tamaki hid his face in the faux fur of the plushie. Yeah, that would be great, he thought; getting to see Sou-chan. 

It wasn’t that they didn’t see each other lately, or that they hadn’t been working together. If anything, Sougo was the member of IDOLiSH7 with whom Tamaki spent most of his time. But working and having fun didn’t always overlap, and ever since they had released _Forever note_ , Sougo used all of his spare time in a studio, writing and writing and writing, never once letting anyone sit with him or listen to his songs until he deemed them perfect.

So yeah: Sougo was the member of IDOLiSH7 Tamaki spent most of his time with.

But that didn’t mean he didn’t miss him just the same.

A loud groan escaped from Tamaki’s throat, muffled against the soft fabric of the King Pudding plushie. 

“Stupid Sou-chan...” he muttered, closing his eyes.

“What did I do now?”

Tamaki sprung into a sitting position. The room swayed around him, buzzed for a second as his heart hammered against his ribs, and his hands clutched the plushie until his knuckles went white because _he was supposed to be alone and someone had just spoken and it was late and night and someone was there—_

But then his eyes started working once again, and the fear transformed into utter _relief_.

 _Not_ that he would let it show.

“Don’t appear so suddenly!” Tamaki shouted at the figure at the threshold of the living-room, narrowing his eyes at it until he looked angry enough.

“I’m sorry!” Sougo replied softly, lifting his hands as if to show he was unarmed. Tamaki nearly face-palmed; why was that Sougo’s first impulse...? “I thought you knew I was here. You called my name.” 

Tamaki pursed his lips, repressing a pout. He _had_ said Sougo’s name, hadn’t he? And Sougo, as if summoned, had suddenly appeared at home, surrounded by the shadows of the entrance and the traces of rain still clinging to the shoulders of his jacket.

“No, I didn’t,” Tamaki grumbled, lying more out of being caught missing Sougo than any real shyness. “And you should have said you had arrived or something! Don’t be creepy.”

Sougo laughed softly, but the sound sounded tired, almost exhausted, and the frown over Tamaki’s eyes softened with it. “I should have, shouldn’t I?” Sougo asked himself, barely a whisper. “Sorry, Tamaki-kun. I’m home.”

Sougo hadn’t even entered the living room yet. He was standing at the doorway, long jacket drenched, arms around himself. And it wasn’t only his voice that seemed exhausted: Sougo’s shoulders slumped as if he could barely hold his own weight by now, and his eyes seemed droopy and dark beneath the pale-blue light of the TV.

Something not too different from what Tamaki had been feeling all day made him clutch the abused plushie a tad tighter.

“...Welcome home, Sou-chan.”

Some of Sougo’s weariness seemed to disappear after that. He smiled softly, nodded, and came to sit by Tamaki’s ankles, a soft sigh making it out of his mouth as he allowed himself to sink into the cushions. Tamaki curled his legs out of the way, letting Sougo get comfortable—and then moved to wiggle his socked toes under Sougo’s thigh, making Sougo chuckle.

“...Were you working? Or at the studio?” Tamaki wondered after a beat, wrapping his arms around his own knees. The poor plushie was trapped between his chest and his thighs, its stitched features seeming almost pained as Tamaki leaned forward.

“At the studio. There’s been a song that has been giving me trouble lately.”

Tamaki tried not to feel disappointed at that. Sougo could have been home probably hours ago, but he had gone to the studio instead. Tamaki didn’t mind Sougo’s love for song-writing —he had decided, even, to support it fully no matter what—, but Tamaki kind of wished he would _share_ it.

It kind of stung to be the only one who missed his partner.

“How was your day off?” Sougo asked after a long stretch of silence. Silences weren’t something they did much—not anymore, at least. They tended to fill their silences with chatter, where there was only mistrust and doubt at the beginning of it all. But this silence was tense and dark, not even filled by the soft sound of whatever program the TV was showing, and Sougo’s attempt to break it was both welcome and unwelcome.

Welcome, because Tamaki hated the silence almost as much as he hated the darkness. The loneliness.

Unwelcome, because he got the feeling the longer they talked, the more he would realize Sougo didn’t miss him as much as Tamaki did.

“...It was okay,” Tamaki replied with a shrug. “I rested lots. And I watched the show Nagicchi recommended.”

“Nagi-kun will be happy to hear that. I haven’t had the chance to watch it myself...”

 _If you had come home earlier you could have watched it with me,_ Tamaki thought, unbidden, only for the thought to be followed by guilt. Sougo wasn’t avoiding him; he was working hard to give MEZZO” the best music he could.

So instead, he said: “You spend too much time at the studio, Sou-chan. You have to rest too.”

Sougo’s sigh was long, almost strained. As if even that soft breath needed too much energy from him. “I know,” he said softly. “But… I really want to give MEZZO” the best song I can create. I need to work a bit more on it.”

Tamaki pursed his lips. “A good song will do nothing for MEZZO” if _you_ get sick again, you know?”

Sougo said nothing at that but he did nod. Then he pushed his feet onto the sofa, knees against his chest and arms around his legs. Tamaki’s toes, no longer buried under the warmth of Sougo’s thighs, felt suddenly cold.

“I’m sorry to trouble you so much, Tamaki-kun,” Sougo said.

Tamaki did the only sensible thing.

He hit Sougo in the face with the plushie.

“Hey—!” Sougo spluttered around a mouthful of fabric, but Tamaki didn’t let him continue. He hit him again for good measure. “Tamaki-kun, stop!”

“Idiot!” Tamaki exclaimed back. It was a good thing they were alone at home, or the group would have already been woken up by the ruckus. “You think I only care about that? About the trouble?”

Sougo frowned. “But—“

“No buts! I care about you getting sick again! I care about not seeing you because you’re always at the studio! I miss you, you know—!”

Tamaki’s brain finally caught up to what he was saying. The moment he realized, Tamaki slammed his mouth shut with a clack of his teeth, quickly looking away. The plushie had fallen to the floor after being used as a weapon, too far away from Tamaki’s reach, and Tamaki lamented its loss. He suddenly needed something to hide, something to use as a barrier against the intense gaze he could feel on the side of his face.

He wanted to take back what he had just said, not because it wasn’t true, but because it was _embarrassing._

“Tamaki-kun…” Sougo started to say, leaning forward to rest his palm on Tamaki’s knee. His hand was cold through the soft material of Tamaki’s sweatpants, but Tamaki’s whole body was hyperaware of it, of its weight against his leg. “I’m sorry, Tamaki-kun.”

“…I don’t want you to apologize,” Tamaki said, eyes still cast aside, but doing anything he could so as not to move. He didn’t want Sougo’s hand to move away. “Idiot.”

“I just…” Sougo started to say, and at that Tamaki _did_ look back at him. The slight tremble in Sougo’s voice was too unusual to pretend not to notice. Sougo was the one looking down now, there where he was grabbing the extra fabric of Tamaki’s sweatpants. “I don’t want you to have to listen to something mediocre.”

“…You mean something bad?” Tamaki asked, and when Sougo nodded still without looking up, Tamaki sighed. “You dummy, I don’t care if it’s a good or bad song. If it’s yours, I’m always going to want to listen to it.”

Finally, Sougo looked up. The bluish lights of the TV made a strange glint dance in his eyes, like moonlight reflecting on a lake. Eyes that were wide open, surprised as if Tamaki had jumped out from behind a couch to scare him, instead of just telling the truth.

And then Sougo’s hand left its spot on Tamaki’s knee to cover his own eyes, and Tamaki realized it hadn’t been the light of the TV that had made Sougo’s eyes look wet.

“…How do you do that?” Sougo asked softly, absentmindedly, even if the words were clearly directed at Tamaki. “How do you know what I need to hear…?”

“Sou-chan?” Tamaki called, letting his feet fall to the floor to slide across the couch, closer to Sougo’s side. “Sou-chan, are you okay? I didn’t mean it when I called you an idiot, I promise! Well, maybe a bit, but…”

Sougo shook his head. His cheeks were dry, but his hands still covered his eyes. 

So maybe it was time for another Tamaki sneak attack.

But the plushie was out of reach still, and Tamaki wasn’t about to use his hands to smack some sense into Sougo. So he did the next best thing, not allowing himself the time to even think it over, or hesitate.

Sneaking his arms around Sougo, Tamaki brought him closer to his chest—and then brought the both of them down, until Tamaki’s back was flat against the couch and Sougo was sprawled over his chest, cheek firmly pressed against the material of Tamaki’s t-shirt.

“T-tamaki-kun…” Sougo immediately protested, but Tamaki’s hold was secure. He squeezed Sougo’s middle with one of his arms, while he kept Sougo’s head down with a hand on the side of it. 

“Listen,” Tamaki started, voice assertive enough that Sougo simply stopped fighting, letting himself go pliable on top of Tamaki. “I want to hear your songs, but I don’t want you working yourself to death alone in your studio, or your room.”

Tamaki could almost feel Sougo’s eye-roll against his shirt. “I’m not working myself to _death—“_

“ _So_ ,” Tamaki kept going ignoring Sougo completely. “Let me in next time, okay? I know I don’t know much about writing music, but maybe I can help you. Or at least I’ll stop you from working yourself sick.”

Sougo said nothing for a long moment. His breath was warm on Tamaki’s chest, coming out of his mouth in steady, slightly warm puffs. Tamaki tightened his hold on him just in case.

But all Sougo did was return the embrace, hands coming up under Tamaki’s arms to clutch at his sides.

“Alright,” Sougo said in the end, nodding against Tamaki’s chest. “You can come with me next time, Tamaki-kun. If you want.”

Tamaki let out a long sigh, letting go of the tension in his body. Sougo molded to the new softness of Tamaki’s body easily, not even slipping a bit from his place on top of Tamaki. Tamaki’s strong arms around him helped, of course, but Sougo didn’t seem about to move away on his own, either.

The fact brought a smile to Tamaki’s mouth.

“I just need to find the sound, I think,” Sougo admitted after a while. His voice sounded low and soft, as if he was starting to drift off. Tamaki couldn’t blame him; Sougo’s body on him was heavy and comforting, like a warm blanket, and the soft sounds of their breathing combined were lulling him to sleep. But he snapped awake at Sougo’s voice, listening intently. “I have the lyrics, but the music doesn’t seem to match them the way I want it to.”

Tamaki frowned at the ceiling. “What kind of song is it?”

“It has a rock base. But the lyrics… they’re similar to the ones we’re used to singing as MEZZO”, truth be told.”

“…So it’s a love song?”

“Mm, not quite. But maybe—“

Sougo cut of himself abruptly, and before Tamaki could stop him he lifted himself off Tamaki’s chest, hands pushing against the couch cushions underneath to support himself. He didn’t put much distance between them, but Tamaki immediately felt the loss of Sougo’s warmth like a cool breeze against his chest.

“Sou-chan…?”

As fast as he had gotten up, Sougo let himself fall back on top of Tamaki, cheek pressed against his chest, over his sternum. Tamaki let out a sound of protest, but he didn’t dare to say anything beyond that. He had gotten a glimpse of Sougo’s face before he had smushed it against Tamaki’s shirt and his expression had been one of complete concentration.

It made Tamaki’s heart speed up, for some reason. That fire behind Sougo’s usually placid violet eyes.

“That’s it…” Sougo muttered, lips pressed against Tamaki’s shirt.

And then he bolted up and away, too fast for Tamaki to even try to stop him.

“Sou-chan!” Tamaki shouted after him, still rooted to his place, back flat against the couch.

“I think I got it, Tamaki-kun!” Sougo shouted back, sounding far away. From the direction of the rooms. “The sound!”

Somewhere deep in the house, the door slammed shut.

Sougo closing the door of his room.

Tamaki waiting for a second, then two, before letting out a long groan. He turned on the couch to bury his face on the corner between the cushions, pushing forward until the darkness behind his eyelids became alive with sparks he didn’t know how to name.

 _Does he even_ listen _to me!?_ He thought angrily, a bit sadly. _I just told him to let me in and there he goes—!_

“Tamaki-kun.”

Tamaki froze. Then slowly, almost not daring to believe he had heard anything at first, he unburied his face from the cushions to look over his shoulder towards the door of the living room. And sure enough, there was Sougo, hair mussed from where Tamaki had been playing with it as he kept Sougo’s head down and cheeks red with exertion, or excitement, or even both at the same time. 

Tamaki sat up on the couch, waiting silently, shoulders slumped.

Sougo held a hand out to him with a luminous smile.

“Do you mind coming with me?” He asked softly. “I have something I want to show you.”

Tamaki regarded the hand between them, then Sougo’s smile, then his eyes. “Is it a perfect song?”

“Not at all,” Sougo replied, and his smile didn’t crumble the slightest bit. “But I still want you to hear it.”

There was nothing to say to that, Tamaki realized. So he did nothing except grab Sougo’s hand firmly in his and follow him to his room, ready to listen to anything Sougo would show him.

That time, when the door closed behind Sougo, Tamaki was already waiting inside.

* * *

_“Now, who’s ready to hear a new one? Osaka Sougo has done it again, folks—he’s a newbie in the songwriting business, so to speak, but boy is he shaking up a storm! The calm half of MEZZO” has a way of combining rock with heartfelt words; I know their newest single is going to make you feel_ things, _everyone!_

_“Here it is, MEZZO”’s new song: HEARTBEAT MELODY!”_

**Author's Note:**

> Thank you so much for reading!!


End file.
